Chapter 75: Gangster Shooting
Let's check the docks first."
Peter gave his wrist a shake, shot out a strand of Web fluid, and soared into the air once more.
The dock area of Hells Kitchen.
It had always been the lifeblood of the underworld.
The area was filled with shipping containers, the terrain complex, making it a natural breeding ground for smuggling drugs, illegal arms, and human trafficking.
Before.
This place was Kingpin's absolute forbidden zone; even a fly entering would be inspected for sex.
But tonight, this place had turned into an arena.
"Bang! Bang! Bang! Da-da-da--"
Before he even got close,
The sound of dense gunfire and curses carried over with the sea breeze.
In an open space piled high with containers,
Two groups were engaged in a fierce shootout from dozens of meters apart, using cover.
One side wore matching leather jackets.
They held a motley assortment of weapons, ranging from old revolvers to brand-new Uzi submachine guns—they had everything.
The other side,
Consisted entirely of bald, tattooed thugs, clearly the remnants of some violence-worshipping gang.
Bullets flew wildly in the night sky, striking the metal siding of the containers with sharp 'ding-ding-dang' sounds, sending sparks flying.
However.
Although the battle looked intense, to an expert like Peter, it looked like—
"A bunch of rookies."
Peter crouched atop a container, watching the gunfight below, unable to help but shake his head.
"Did they learn their marksmanship from the Stormtroopers in Star Wars? They've been shooting at each other for five minutes, and besides shattering two streetlights and one innocent trash can, they haven't even grazed a hair."
This kind of inefficient violence
Was simply wasting everyone's time, and wasting this precious night.
"I can't let them keep making a scene. Disturbing the peace with noise is a serious offense."
Peter stood up and stretched his neck.
"Besides, although these guys are nobodies, they are still ready manpower. If I recruit them, they'd be excellent for cleaning streets or moving bricks."
Having made up his mind, Peter no longer hesitated.
"Whoosh--"
He leaped, falling straight down from the container over ten meters high.
"Thud!"
Peter landed in a half-squat, right in the middle of the crossfire between the two groups.
The immense impact kicked up a ring of dust and even caused the concrete ground to crack.
The entire scene instantly fell silent.
All gunfire stopped abruptly. The two gangs of bloodthirsty gangsters were stunned, staring blankly at this uninvited guest who had dropped from the sky.
The smoke and dust dispersed.
The red and blue figure slowly straightened his body, his white lenses emitting a faint, cold glow under the dim streetlights.
Peter placed his hands on his hips, gathered his breath, and roared:
"Stop fighting!"
After a brief, dead silence.
"Holy crap!"
"It's Spider-Man!"
"No... It's Spider-Bully! That demon who put people in comas!"
Terrified shouts instantly erupted.
A person's reputation precedes them.
If this had been a few months ago, seeing Spider-Man, people might have cracked a joke or two about a 'pervert in a spandex suit.'
But recently,
The infamy of 'Spider-Bully' was enough to scare children quiet in Hells Kitchen.
There were even rumors circulating.
That the reason Kingpin and Mister Negative had died overnight, not even leaving complete corpses, was the work of this guy!
In the territory of Hells Kitchen,
Daredevil would only break your bones, and The Punisherwould only grant you a quick death with a single shot; moreover, the latter two were just ordinary humans.
Only this Spider-Man.
He truly made you experience what it meant to 'wish you were dead' and 'physical pulverization.'
For a moment,
The two groups that were just shooting at each other
Stopped firing with surprising tacit understanding, retreating backward one after another, their eyes filled with fear for the red and blue figure.
"W-What do we do?"
A low-ranking member of the Leather Jacket Gang asked tremblingly, his grip on his gun almost slipping.
"Should we retreat? This guy isn't someone we can afford to mess with."
"Shut up! What are you panicking about!"
The small leader of the Leather Jacket Gang,
A burly man named Jack with a brutish face, though he was also unnerved inside,
Glanced at his surrounding brothers, then thought about the massive fortune they could gain by taking control of the docks.
His greed instantly overwhelmed his fear.
This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!
Before, with Kingpin suppressing everything, he, Jack, was always just a security guard.
Now that Kingpin was dead, if he could establish his authority at this moment, or even... eliminate Spider-Man?
Then he would be the new king!
"What are you afraid of?!"
Jack gritted his teeth and roared loudly, trying to bolster his subordinates.
"No matter how strong he is, he's still flesh and blood! I don't believe he can withstand bullets! Can he be tougher than a tank?"
On the other side,
The leader of the Bald Gang had clearly thought of the same thing. The two exchanged a glance, reaching some unspoken mutual understanding.
Take out this disruptive monster first, and then settle their own score!
"Open fire!"
Jack raised his AK47, roaring with a ferocious expression.
"Shoot him down! As long as we kill him, Hells Kitchen will be ours!"
"From now on, the drug and arms businesses will all be ours! Everyone will make a fortune! Live in a Villa! Drive luxury cars!"
This tempting speech instantly ignited the greed in the hearts of the desperate men.
"Kill!!!"
"For U.S. dollars!"
"Go to hell, Spider freak!"
Dozens of gang members acted as if they had been injected with adrenaline.
They temporarily put aside their mutual hatred, turned their guns, and poured all their firepower toward Peter in the center of the field.
"Da-da-da-da-da-da--"
Dense gunfire erupted like popping beans, the muzzle flashes weaving a deadly net of fire in the night.
Facing this overwhelming hail of bullets,
Peter not only showed no panic but instead couldn't help but laugh.
"Instead of running away when you see me, you choose to attack?"
Peter tilted his head, his tone laced with a hint of mockery.
"I must say, your courage deserves praise, but your intelligence... is regrettable."
Actually,
Peter was very clear in his heart that he was currently just a shadow clone.
A shadow clone has no armor.
If he were truly hit by this barrage of random shots, even if just a stray bullet hit his leg, the clone would dissipate on the spot.
In that case,
It would not only be embarrassing but would also make these small fry think that Spider-Man was nothing special.
"So, I can't give you the chance."
In the instant before the first bullet was about to touch Peter's suit,
Peter moved.
No, to be precise, he vanished.
[Fraud Magic—Activate!]
"Swish!"
A plume of orange-red smoke rippled in the air. Peter, who had been standing in place, instantly evaporated into thin air.
Countless bullets whistled past,
But only struck a dissipating cloud of smoke, slamming into the container behind where Peter had been, kicking up a shower of sparks.
"Where is he?!"
"Did we hit him?"
The gunfire gradually subsided. The gangsters looked around with wide eyes, uncertain.
"Is he above? Or..."
Jack gripped his still-smoking rifle, cold sweat streaming down his forehead.
The fear of being targeted by a top predator instantly gripped his heart.
"Looking for me?"
A faint voice sounded abruptly behind Jack.
The distance was less than ten centimeters.
All the hair on Jack's body stood on end. He instinctively wanted to turn around and pull the trigger.
But it was all too late.
Chapter 76: Subduing the Thugs
Peter deactivated his invisibility, raised his right arm, pulled his elbow back, and then thrust it forward fiercely.
[Fraud Magic · Backstab Critical Hit]
Although it was only a shadow clone, and its strength was not as exaggerated as the main body's, this strike possessed an explosive power of at least several tens of tons.
"Boom!!!"
A dull, heavy sound echoed.
Under the horrified gazes of all the thugs, their leader, Jack, who had just been shouting that "Spider-Man is also flesh and blood," had his upper body instantly explode.
The terrifying kinetic energy directly shattered his spine and rib cage.
The immense pressure made his body unable to withstand it, instantly turning him into a cloud of scarlet mist that sprayed onto the faces of several surrounding thugs.
Jack's lower body remained standing in place, twitching a couple of times before collapsing.
Instant kill.
And it was an instant kill with extreme visual impact, the kind that causes nightmares.
"Ahhhhhh!!!"
"Monster!!!"
"The leader... the leader exploded!!!"
The gangsters, who were already thoroughly frightened, now had their psychological defenses completely shattered.
What kind of battle was this?
This was clearly a one-sided massacre!
A person they couldn't even hit with a gun, who could also turn invisible, teleport, and blow someone up with one punch... how could they possibly fight that?
"Run! We're going to die!"
Even those ferocious bald thugs threw away their guns at this moment, wishing they had two extra legs, screaming as they scattered and fled.
They had only one thought now:
Leave this pier, leave this red and blue demon!
However.
"Run?"
Peter stood in the mist of blood, shook his hand, and said calmly.
"Did I say I allowed you all to leave?"
He raised both hands, and the glands in his wrists instantly sprayed out a large amount of Web fluid.
This time, he used the "Scatter Mode."
"Zzzzzzz--"
Countless strands of White Web fluid scattered around like a vast net.
This Web fluid had extremely strong adhesion; once stuck, even an ox couldn't break free.
"Ah!"
"Let go of me!"
In just a few seconds.
All the gangsters attempting to escape, whether climbing shipping containers or scrambling into cars, were completely stuck by the Web fluid.
Some were suspended in mid-air, some were plastered against the walls, and some were tripped and tied up like rice dumplings.
The entire pier instantly turned into a giant Spider's Lair.
Dozens of people—not one escaped—were all neatly hung up.
Peter slowly walked up to this group of "rice dumplings."
He looked at these trembling gangsters whose eyes were filled with despair, and did not continue his attack.
On the contrary.
Peter pulled a chair out of the system space and sat down grandly, crossing his legs.
"Wait a moment, everyone."
Peter's voice became gentle, even carrying a hint of a smile.
"Don't be so nervous. I said earlier, I am a friendly neighbor. As long as you don't point a gun at me, I generally don't kill people."
He pointed to the patch of Jack's "remains" on the ground.
"As for that guy... that was an accident. Mainly because he was too fragile. I didn't expect him to be so weak."
The gangsters: "..."
Did you hear that? Calling blowing someone up with one elbow an 'accident'?
"Now, there are two paths before you."
Peter held up two fingers.
"The first path: I'll beat all of you into that state, and then throw you into the sea to feed the fish. I believe the crabs in the New York Bay will thank me."
Hearing this, everyone shook their heads desperately, their eyes filled with extreme terror.
"The second path..."
Peter paused, his eyes behind the mask narrowing to a slit.
"Since you all want to be in the underworld, want to make money, and want to be big and strong, why not choose a stronger boss?"
"Kingpin is dead. Hells Kitchen needs a new order."
Peter stood up, spread his arms, his aura majestic, seemingly enveloping the entire pier.
"Do you want to join my gang?"
"Under my command, no one dares to touch you. The Police can't catch you, and other gangs won't dare to provoke you. As long as you listen obediently and follow my rules."
Peter's voice was full of temptation.
"I can also let you earn a fortune. And this is money you won't have to worry about having your legs broken by vigilantes in the middle of the night."
When these words came out, the gangsters present were stunned.
They thought they were dead for sure, or that they would be sent to prison.
But... Spider-Man wanted to recruit underlings?
This Spider-Bully, who took down Kingpin and turned Hells Kitchen upside down, was actually going to form his own gang?
After a brief shock came an uncontrollable surge of ecstasy.
What did this mean? It meant that from now on, they would belong to Spider-Man!
In this Hells Kitchen.
Who had a thicker thigh to cling to than Spider-Man? Following him meant they could walk sideways through New York!
"I'm willing!"
A bald man hanging in the air was the first to react and shouted loudly.
"Boss Spider-Man! I am willing to follow you! I will recognize you as my only big brother for the rest of my life!"
"I'm willing too! Boss! I'm strong! I also know how to fix cars!"
"Pick me! Pick me! I'm the most familiar with this pier!"
"Just don't kill me, I'll do anything! Long live the Spider Gang!"
For a moment.
The pier, which was filled with a murderous aura moments ago, instantly turned into a large-scale recruitment site.
These thugs, who were ferocious just moments ago, were now as meek as quails, scrambling to pledge allegiance.
Peter looked at this scene and nodded with satisfaction.
[Mission Progress Update: Gang War 2 (Faction Building in progress...)]
"Very good."
Peter snapped his fingers.
"Since everyone is so sincere, from today onwards, this pier is our territory."
"However, let's get the ugly words out first."
Peter's voice suddenly turned cold.
"My gang has my rules. Kingpin's old ways won't work here. If anyone dares to pull tricks behind my back or violate my bottom line..."
He pointed to the bloodstain on the ground.
"This is the consequence."
The thugs fell silent, replying in unison: "Yes! Boss!"
Just as Peter was enjoying the thrill of becoming a "Godfather of the Underworld," a roar of engines came from a distance.
A modified black SUV, resembling an armored vehicle, sped into the pier and stopped in front of Peter with a screech.
The car door opened.
A woman of exaggeratedly burly stature, whose muscles looked like granite, stepped out.
Anaconda.
She looked at the ground covered in spider cocoons and Peter's boss-like posture. A hint of surprise flashed in her eyes, which quickly turned into an enlightened smile.
"Fast work, buddy."
Anaconda walked forward and greeted him familiarly: "I thought you were going to kill them all."
"They are just some lackeys; keeping them around is a little useful."
Peter stood up and pointed to this newly recruited group of underlings.
"Since you're here, I'll leave the training of these men to you first. You know the drill—the HYDRA brainwashing..."
"Ahem, the management procedures, get them set up."
"No problem,"
Anaconda readily agreed, "Leave it to me. I guarantee I'll train them into the most obedient dogs."
At this moment.
In the eyes of these gangsters, seeing Spider-Man chatting and laughing with a member of the Serpent Society, their awe deepened.
Even the Serpent Society is an ally?
It seemed that this new boss, Spider-Man, was even more unfathomable than they had imagined.
Chapter 77: Luke Cage
The dock area of Hells Kitchen.
Dozens of gangsters were stuck like dried jerky.
They were adhered to shipping containers, cranes, and even street lamp posts suspended in mid-air by Peter's powerful Web fluid.
Although they were still trembling,
upon hearing the phrase 'Join Spider-Man's gang,' the fear in their eyes had quickly transformed into relief after escaping disaster.
For these thugs who scraped by at the bottom,
nothing was more important than latching onto a much thicker thigh to rely on.
And the Spider-Man before them was clearly the thickest thigh in Hells Kitchen.
"Very good, it seems everyone has a high level of awareness."
Peter's shadow clone crossed his legs, his gaze sweeping over the group of now-tamed mobsters.
"Since Kingpin is dead, his legacy must be inherited by someone. I dislike waste, especially human resources."
Peter's voice was clearly audible in the night.
"Now, I need intelligence—intelligence regarding Kingpin's remaining forces."
He leaned forward slightly, his white lenses narrowing, projecting an invisible sense of pressure:
"Tell me, after that fat man died, who holds the highest rank among his remaining forces? Who currently commands authority and can mobilize funds?"
As soon as this question was asked,
everyone stuck on the Web fluid paused for a moment, then their minds started racing wildly,
trying to search their brains for valuable information to please this new boss.
Just then,
a muscular Black man stuck to the side of a container had a glint flash in his eyes.
He realized.
This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
A chance to change his destiny, to go from a low-level thug to gaining Spider-Man's recognition and soaring to become a man above others.
"I know! Pick me! I know!"
The muscular Black man struggled fiercely and shouted loudly, afraid someone else would get there first.
"I know the structure of Kingpin's forces very well! I have accurate intelligence!"
Peter turned his head to look at the Black man.
This person looked very young, probably only in his early twenties, with a buzz cut.
Although he was wearing a cheap yellow T-shirt and worn jeans, his muscles were unusually strong,
even more exaggerated than the bodybuilders among the other thugs.
In his eyes,
there was none of the common dullness and timidity of a thug; instead, there was an untamed ambition and fierce determination.
"Oh?"
Peter became interested.
He flicked his finger lightly, and a strand of Web fluid shot out,
lowering the Black man from the container. He wasn't completely freed, just allowed to stand on the ground.
"What is your name? You seem very eager to prove yourself."
The muscular Black man took a deep breath and stood up straight.
"My name is Luke Cage,"
he answered loudly.
"Although I am just a street thug now, I know the underworld forces in New York very well. I don't want to be a punk my whole life; I want to climb up!"
Luke Cage.
Hearing this name, Peter's eyebrows twitched slightly under his mask, and a hint of surprise flashed in his heart.
"Luke Cage? This name sounds a bit familiar..."
Peter's mind quickly searched the memory bank of the Marvel Universe.
Soon,
the corresponding information surfaced.
Isn't this guy the future famous 'Power Man'? The street hero ranked alongside Daredevil and Iron Fist, who later formed the 'Defenders' Alliance'?
In the original storyline,
Luke Cage was a super-soldier modified through human experimentation.
His skin was hard as steel, impervious to blades and bullets, and even chainsaws couldn't cut through it.
His strength was astonishing,
able to easily lift objects weighing over ten tons. Although he couldn't compare to a monster like the Hulk, he was still a tank-level unit on the street level.
His power level was conservatively estimated to be around the regular Spider-Man's twenty-five-ton mark.
"It's just..."
Peter sized up the young Black man before him, who still looked somewhat green and whose eyes were full of a desire for money and power.
"Currently, he is clearly still a weakling who hasn't mutated."
Peter activated the X-ray scanning function of his suit.
The data showed.
The Luke Cage before him, although possessing good bone density and muscle strength, was only at the peak range of a normal human.
There were no signs of anything superhuman.
"If I remember correctly, this guy should have voluntarily participated in a secret Military experiment to shorten his prison sentence after being framed,"
Peter thought to himself.
"That experiment was intended to replicate the Super Soldier Serum, but an accident occurred, granting him an indestructible body."
Since he was the only successful test subject in the comics,
that meant.
His genes inherently possessed some kind of special potential.
Or perhaps Luke Cage's willpower was sufficient to allow him to survive the lethal modification process.
Peter's gaze gradually became playful.
"Since Daredevil, that blind man, has already been tricked by me into becoming a martial arts apprentice, then this future Power Man..."
Peter stroked his chin.
"Why can't he become my gangster enforcer?"
In the laboratory of Osborn Industries,
they were exactly lacking a decent test subject with successful potential to test new enhancement agents.
For example, agents developed from Tombstone's genes, or Osborn's version of the Super Soldier Serum.
If he could cultivate Luke Cage, he would gain a fierce general under his command.
"Very good, Luke."
Peter nodded, a hint of appreciation in his tone.
"I admire your ambition. In this World where the weak are prey to the strong, a thug who doesn't want to be the boss isn't a good subordinate."
"Speak up. Tell me everything you know about Kingpin's legacy. If the intelligence is valuable, you will get what you desire."
Luke Cage was ecstatic upon hearing this.
He knew he had bet correctly!
The Spider-Man before him was definitely not the rigid hero who only sent people to prison.
He was a true overlord, a hegemon currently recruiting followers.
As long as he could latch onto this thigh, Luke Cage's rise to prominence would be imminent!
"Yes! Boss!"
Luke Cage immediately changed his address and spoke rapidly.
"Although Kingpin is dead now, the commercial empire he left behind has not immediately collapsed."
"Currently, the remaining forces are mainly split into two factions, held by two people."
"These two people do not get along, and can even be said to be irreconcilable. They both want to swallow the other and inherit all of Kingpin's legacy."
"The first is Wesley."
Luke introduced.
"He is Kingpin's long-time personal butler, lawyer, and accountant."
"Although he is just an ordinary person with no superpowers, he controls all of Fisk Group's accounts, overseas account passwords, and money laundering networks."
"The most elite thugs in Kingpin's retinue, the Suits, and the legal team all listen to him. He is the brain of the Fisk Group."
Peter nodded.
He had seen Wesley in comics and American dramas; he was a loyal and astute man.
Although his combat power was only a five, his ability to handle affairs was first-rate.
"What about the second one?"
"The second one is called 'Typhoid Mary'."
When mentioning this name, a look of fear appeared on Luke Cage's face.
"She is a woman, but definitely a crazy woman."
"It is said that she is a Mutant with the ability to control Fire and telekinesis, and... she is a severe case of schizophrenia."
"Although she also controls some of Kingpin's Militarystrength, the number is small, and few people are willing to follow her."
Chapter 78: Splitting Up to Act
"Wesley and Mary; one is rich and smart, the other has guns and capability."
Luke Cage summarized.
"Right now, both sides are at a stalemate. Wesley wants to use money to buy off Mary, but Mary wants to kill Wesleydirectly and seize power. If we can intervene..."
"Good analysis."
Peter glanced at Luke with approval.
Although this Black young man hadn't mutated yet, his mind was certainly much sharper than the average hoodlum. No wonder he could become a hero in the future.
"Since you understand the situation so well..."
Peter's lips curved slightly as he made a decision.
"Then from now on, you are the temporary manager of these men."
He pointed to the dozens of gangsters still stuck nearby.
"Take them, clear out the docks first, then reorganize your forces and await my command at any time."
"If you do well, I don't mind letting you become the true boss of this area, even granting you unimaginable power."
"Power?"
Luke Cage froze for a moment, then erupted in ecstatic joy.
He had personally witnessed Spider-Man's terrifying superhuman strength. If that kind of power could also be bestowed...
"Thank you, Master Spider-Man!!"
Luke shouted excitedly, almost kneeling.
"I definitely won't let you down! Anyone who dares disobey, I'll cripple them first!"
This scene made the other gangsters watching filled with envy, jealousy, and hatred.
What kind of intelligence was that? That was just gossip known by everyone in Hells Kitchen!
They knew it too!
It was just a pity.
They hesitated for a moment just now and didn't dare speak up, resulting in this Black man snatching the opportunity first.
Watching Luke Cage transform from a prisoner like them into a 'manager,' everyone's guts turned green with regret.
But regret was useless. This was the rule of the underworld; opportunity was only left for those who dared to gamble.
"Alright, stop putting on an act here."
Peter raised his wrist and snapped his fingers.
"Snap."
Following his command, the molecular structure inside the incredibly tough White Web fluid reacted.
It began to rapidly degrade and become brittle, finally turning into a pile of white powder that fluttered down.
"Thump! Thump!"
The gangsters who were suspended all fell to the ground, landing in a disheveled mess.
Seeing this magical control ability, the awe everyone felt for the new boss deepened.
"Did you all hear that?"
Luke Cage was the first to scramble up. Although he was still covered in dust, his aura had already changed.
He stood before everyone, pointing at Peter, and shouted loudly:
"From today on, Master Spider-Man is our new boss! Anyone who dares to have second thoughts, you don't need the boss to move; I'll crush them myself!"
"Yes! Boss!"
"Greetings, Boss Spider-Man!"
Dozens of men bowed in unison, their voices deafening.
Peter looked at this scene without much sense of accomplishment, only finding it somewhat amusing.
"Enough, drop the false courtesies."
Peter waved his hand, "I only need results."
He turned to look at Anaconda, who had been watching the show with her arms crossed.
This strong woman from the Serpent Society clearly appreciated Peter's swift method of incorporation.
"Looks like you already have a plan?"
Anaconda asked.
"Of course."
Peter's gaze drifted toward the depths of Manhattan, where the locations of some secret strongholds belonging to the Fisk Group were situated.
"Luke just said the current situation is two tigers fighting: Wesley has the brains but no military strength, and Typhoid Mary has the military strength but no brains."
Peter sneered.
"For us, both are obstacles that must be cleared, but the order matters."
"Although Typhoid Mary is a Mutant, she is a lunatic with unstable mental state, making it hard for her to form a tight organization, so her threat is smaller."
"Besides, her little superpowers are nothing in my eyes."
"It's that Wesley instead."
A sharp glint flashed in Peter's eyes.
"He controls Kingpin's wealth codes. If he escapes or transfers the money, what we receive will just be an empty shell."
For Peter, who wanted to earn mission rewards through 'territory management,' territory was important, but the capital chain was the absolute priority.
Osborn's money was plentiful, but it was above board; much of it couldn't be used for dirty work.
He needed an underground private treasury of his own.
"So..."
Peter looked at Luke Cage, "Where is Wesley right now?"
Luke quickly replied.
"According to intelligence, ever since Kingpin went missing, Wesley has been hiding in a private sanatorium under Fisk's name."
"It's nominally a hospital, but it's actually his safe house, with extremely tight security."
"Private sanatorium?"
Peter raised an eyebrow, "Very good, very suitable for retirement."
He turned to look at Anaconda. The two exchanged a glance and instantly reached a tacit understanding.
"We move tonight."
Peter's voice was cold.
"We split up. Anaconda, you take the Serpent Societymembers and sweep Typhoid Mary's territory. That crazy woman is yours to handle, any problem?"
Anaconda clenched her fists, producing cracking sounds, and revealed a cruel smile:
"I couldn't ask for more."
"I also want to see if that rumored madwoman can withstand my Adamantium skeleton."
"Very good."
Peter nodded, then looked at Luke Cage.
"Luke, you take these newly recruited underlings and take over the streets around the docks. Be fast, and look cool while doing it."
"Tell everyone that the owner here has changed."
"No problem, Boss!"
Luke thumped his chest in assurance.
"As for that Wesley..."
Peter adjusted his collar. Although he was just a shadow clone, his confident aura was undiminished.
"I will meet him personally."
"I want to let him know that since Kingpin is dead, it's time for his butler to go down and accompany his Master."
"Move out!"
As Peter gave the order, the newly formed'Spider Gang,' this War Machine, roared into operation under the cover of night.
Anaconda led her people rushing toward Typhoid Mary's stronghold, and Luke Cage began clearing the docks.
Meanwhile, Peter's shadow clone flashed away like a ghost in the night sky, speeding toward the private sanatorium.
After leaving the docks,
Peter moved with electric speed, shuttling rapidly between the tall buildings. His target was clear—James Wesley.
Kingpin's head butler, and the key figure controlling the Fisk crime empire's purse strings.
According to the intelligence provided by Luke Cage,
This Wesley was hiding in a place called the 'Deep Blue Sanatorium.'
"Sanatorium?"
Peter stopped atop a rather elegant building decorated in Baroque style.
Although the sign at the entrance read 'Deep Blue Sanatorium,' and it even pretentiously stated, 'Membership-based Medical Rehabilitation Center,'
With Peter's keen senses, even before entering, he could smell the mixture of perfume, high-end alcohol, and hormones inside—a scent of debauchery.
What kind of sanatorium was this? It was clearly a private club, a combination of a bathhouse and a nightclub,
A den of extravagance specifically for high-ranking officials and underworld bosses to 'cultivate their health.'
"It truly is a good place for well-being."
Peter activated the X-ray vision function of his suit.
The view through the eyepieces instantly switched, and the thick walls became transparent.
Inside the building, there was a dazzling display of lights and colors. Countless scantily clad, hot-bodied women shuttled between various private rooms and dance floors.
Heavily made up, they displayed every conceivable charm.
And in those luxurious suites, all sorts of unspeakable scenes were jaw-dropping.
Peter merely glanced casually, then lost interest.
Chapter 79: Night Raid on the Club
Mediocre fluff."
The image of Gwen Stacy in her battle suit, looking heroic and spirited, flashed through his mind.
Compared to his own super-girlfriend who could both swing on Web fluid and conduct experiments,
these women...
were simply like cheap plastic models from an assembly line, completely soulless.
"Business first."
Peter adjusted his focus, his gaze piercing through layers of flooring, beginning to search for the target deep inside the building.
Soon,
he locked onto a figure in a secluded, luxurious office within the sanatorium.
It was a man wearing a gray three-piece suit and gold-rimmed glasses.
He sat upright behind a massive mahogany desk, holding a glass of red wine.
His expression appeared calm,
but the hand tightly gripping the glass, with slightly whitened knuckles, betrayed his inner anxiety.
This man, with his old-fashioned English gentleman style,
seemed completely out of place with the noisy, chaotic, and lust-filled dance floor outside.
"Found you, Wesley."
Peter's lips curled up slightly, "Looks like you haven't run yet. Consider yourself smart."
After confirming the target's location,
Peter did not choose stealthy assassination like before.
For a civilian employee with no extraordinary abilities, directly showing force head-on was the most efficient method.
"Boom—"
Peter descended from the sky, landing right in front of the club's main entrance.
He didn't use the side door, but swaggered over, pushing open the large door inlaid with stained glass, and walked straight in.
Inside the club lobby,
deafening electronic dance music was blasting their eardrums, and multicolored laser lights swept through the smoke.
When the figure in the red and blue bodysuit appeared at the edge of the dance floor,
the previously wildly gyrating crowd paused briefly.
"Who is that?"
"Spider-Man? My God, why is he here?"
"Fake, right? This is a private club!"
A wave of whispering broke out in the crowd, but unexpectedly, not many people felt panic.
In this era where entertainment is king, especially in a high-end nightclub full of bizarre sights,
the patrons were used to all sorts of spectacles.
Some even thought this was a special performance arranged by the club for the evening—some kind of superhero-themed male striptease show?
"Hey! Buddy! Your suit is pretty realistic!"
A drunken rich second generation, with two beauties draped over his arms, whistled at Peter.
"Is this Cosplay? How much for one night?"
Peter's eyebrows twitched beneath his mask.
"Cosplay?"
He ignored these hedonistic guys, too lazy to even glance at the rich second generation.
Peter was like an icebreaker,
cutting straight through the crowded mass. The invisible aura emanating from him caused those around to instinctively step aside,
forcefully carving a path down the center of the dance floor.
Passing through the noisy hall, Peter arrived at a long, narrow corridor leading to the inner area.
It was much quieter here, but also much more dangerous.
Two burly men, dressed in black suits and wearing sunglasses, standing nearly two meters tall, guarded the corridor entrance like door gods.
Their waists were bulging, clearly carrying weapons.
Seeing Peter stride towards them,
the two bodyguards immediately stepped forward, extending their thick arms to block the way.
"Stop right there!"
The bodyguard on the left shouted coldly, his voice deep and threatening.
"This is the manager's office and VIP lounge area. Unauthorized personnel are forbidden. No matter who sent you, you Joker, get out immediately."
Peter stopped, tilted his head, and looked at these two fellows who didn't know they were courting death.
"Joker?"
Peter pointed to the spider emblem on his chest.
"You dare obstruct me? Don't you know who I am? I am Spider-Man."
"Ha!"
The bodyguard on the right couldn't help but laugh, his tone full of disdain.
"You? Spider-Man? If you were Spider-Man, I'd be Captain America! Lately, there are just too many crazy fans whose brains aren't right."
Evidently,
in their perception, real superheroes wouldn't swagger into a den of iniquity like this.
"Get lost! If you don't leave now, I'll throw you out!"
The bodyguard on the left impatiently reached out, intending to shove Peter's shoulder.
Peter sighed.
"It seems some people just need an elbow."
Before the words even finished,
Peter's figure flickered slightly.
"Whoosh—"
No one even saw his movement clearly.
They only saw Peter's right arm rise like lightning, his elbow acting like a battering ram, striking with a speed that was faster than the reaction.
It fiercely impacted the jaw of the bodyguard on the left.
"Thud!"
A dull yet crisp sound of bone collision.
The burly man, weighing over two hundred pounds, didn't even manage to grunt.
His entire body looked like his spine had been yanked out.
His feet left the ground, he flipped halfway in the air, and then crashed heavily onto the floor.
His eyes rolled back, foam appeared at his mouth.
His body twitched slightly, clearly having fallen into a deep, infant-like sleep.
Instant kill.
And an extremely casual instant kill.
The air seemed to freeze.
The bodyguard on the right, who had just been mocking Peter, now had a smile frozen on his face like a cheap mask.
His eyes widened,
staring at his companion on the ground who had lost all combat ability, and then looking at the red and blue figure in front of him, who maintained a calm posture.
Cold sweat instantly soaked his back.
"Wh... what?!"
The bodyguard's voice was trembling, and his legs started to shake.
"Elbow strike...? Could you... are you really Spider-Man?!"
As someone involved in the underworld,
he had certainly heard the recent rumors about the "Spider-Bully," the demon who put people in a vegetative state with an elbow strike!
"Now, may I pass?"
Peter retracted his elbow and asked calmly, "Or do you also want to experience my bone-setting service?"
"No, no, no, no! No need!"
The bodyguard was terrified out of his wits, not daring to block him anymore.
He quickly sidestepped,
pressed tightly against the wall, made a standard 'please' gesture, and plastered a fawning smile on his face that looked worse than crying.
"Please, Lord Spider-Man, proceed inside! Your presence here truly honors this humble place! Mr. Wesley is just inside! Please, make yourself at home!"
Peter nodded with slight satisfaction upon seeing this.
"You're smart enough."
He uncharacteristically didn't elbow this guy, but strode straight past him toward the carved wooden door at the end of the corridor.
It wasn't until Peter's back disappeared around the corner,
that the surviving bodyguard finally let out a breath, feeling like he had just returned from the gates of hell.
He glanced at his unconscious colleague on the floor, feeling no sympathy, only relief.
"Wesley, you're on your own now," the bodyguard thought secretly while wiping the cold sweat from his forehead.
"It's not that I didn't stop him; it's that an ordinary person simply cannot stop a monster like that! This job is too dangerous; I quit!"
With that thought,
he turned without hesitation and sprinted toward the exit in the opposite direction, not even caring about this month's salary.
...
At the end of the corridor, in the manager's office, Peterstood before the heavy, solid wooden door.
He didn't knock, nor did he turn the handle.
"Bang!!!"
Peter lifted his right foot and kicked the door with what seemed like casual force.
The expensive reinforced mahogany door, rumored to be bulletproof, instantly disintegrated into flying wood chips and fragments.
The immense impact even caused cracks to appear in the walls surrounding the doorframe.
Chapter 80: Expanding the Scale
Amidst the dust and smoke,
Peter stepped inside.
The office was not as chaotic as imagined.
Wesley was still seated behind the large desk, his posture unchanged.
He adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses.
Looking at the figure by the doorway, which resembled a demon god, a bitter and helpless smile appeared on his face.
"Spider-Man."
Wesley's voice was steady, but beneath the steadiness lay a despair of resignation, "You really did come."
Peter raised an eyebrow.
Stepping over the scattered wood chips, he walked to the desk and looked down at the scholarly man.
"It seems you aren't surprised? Were you waiting for me?"
"Of course."
Wesley set down the red wine glass and sighed.
In fact, when Peter invaded Fisk Tower, Wesley was already on the top floor.
He had even attended the "Criminal Alliance" meeting hosted by Kingpin.
But because he was purely an administrative staff member,
When Kingpin took his subordinates to the basement to surround Spider-Man via the elevator, he did not bring Wesley along.
This, instead, saved his life.
Wesley witnessed everything that happened on the fourth basement level through the surveillance screens.
He saw how Peter weaved through the crowd as if teleporting.
He also saw the once arrogant Kingpin being casually struck by Peter's elbow, instantly smashed into a pulp against the wall.
That was a complete crushing of strength.
It was a dimensional strike.
Among the villains present, only the female Serpent Society member, Anaconda, was spared because she defected in time.
None of the others were a match for Spider-Man in a single exchange.
At that moment, Wesley understood.
The sky over Hells Kitchen had fallen.
This newly emerged Spider-Man was definitely not a soft-hearted do-gooder who would be swayed by a few pleas or legal statutes.
He was ruthless and decisive in his killing.
He was worlds apart from vigilantes like Daredevil, who would only send people to the hospital.
Resistance? Only a dead end.
Escape? Even the extraordinarily capable Mister Negativecouldn't get away; where could an ordinary person like him flee?
Therefore, he chose the third path.
Just as Peter was sizing up this remnant of Kingpin's faction with interest,
"Thud."
Wesley stood up from his chair.
He walked around the desk and knelt without hesitation before Peter.
His posture was standard, his demeanor humble.
"Respected Lord Spider-Man."
Wesley lowered his head, his voice respectful yet trembling.
"I surrender."
"I am willing to unconditionally hand over all of Kingpin's assets and the underground business network. I only ask one thing of you..."
He looked up, his eyes filled with pleading:
"Please do not kill me. Take me in."
"Let me continue working for you. I know all the secrets of this city. I know how to launder that black money. I am useful to you."
This was Wesley's wisdom for survival.
He was a shrewd tool. Since his old Master was dead, and the Spider-Man before him was so powerful,
As long as he could prove his value,
Perhaps he could survive, or even... retain a place in this new empire.
Peter looked at Wesley kneeling at his feet, his eyes darting around.
The expression beneath his mask became somewhat strange.
"There's such a thing? Voluntarily defecting to me, Spider-Man."
Peter thought to himself.
"I originally thought I'd have to use a little force or some means of interrogation, but I didn't expect this guy to be so cooperative and immediately offer to be my subordinate?"
This was indeed an unexpected bonus.
Although Peter didn't have a good impression of mobsters, he had to admit that talent like Wesley was rare.
Peter had hacking skills and could fight,
But he didn't have time to manage a vast criminal enterprise, nor the energy to deal with complex financial statements and money laundering networks.
If he handed these trivial matters over to Wesley to manage,
And he just acted as a hands-off boss, reaping the benefits—wouldn't that be wonderful?
Moreover,
Peter glanced at the system panel.
[Quest: Mob Dynasty 2 (In Progress)]
[Current Progress: Faction prototype established (Hells Kitchen Dock Area).]
[Hint: You need to expand your territory and have a stable source of funding to be judged by the system as a "True Criminal Faction".]
"Clearly, just subduing a bunch of dock laborers isn't enough. I need management talent like Wesley."
Thinking of this,
Peter nodded, suppressing the killing intent radiating from him.
"Fine."
Peter pulled out a plain black bank card from the system space and tossed it onto Wesley's desk.
"Since you are so sincere, I will give you a chance."
Peter's voice was cold and authoritative.
"First, transfer all of Kingpin's liquid funds into this card. Remember, all of it. If I discover you dare to hide even one cent..."
Peter extended a finger and lightly tapped the mahogany desk.
"Crack."
The hard solid wood surface instantly split open with a crack.
"I will smash your clever head in like knocking open a watermelon."
Wesley looked at the crack, and cold sweat instantly poured down.
He knew this wasn't a threat; it was a statement of fact.
"Yes! Yes! I absolutely wouldn't dare!"
Wesley scrambled up from the floor as if granted amnesty, grabbed the bank card, and quickly sat back down at the computer.
"I'll start operating now! Kingpin's liquid funds are mainly distributed in offshore accounts in Switzerland, the Cayman Islands, and several shell companies."
"It should take about ten minutes to consolidate and transfer everything!"
His fingers flew across the keyboard, demonstrating high professional competence.
While operating, Wesley seemed to recall something and cautiously reminded him:
"Right, Lord Spider-Man, although cash transfers are fast, Kingpin's assets aren't just money."
"He also has a large amount of physical assets."
"For example, gold stored in several secret warehouses, priceless antiques, famous paintings, and some special goods that cannot see the light of day."
"These items are considered immovable property and cannot be transferred online."
Wesley pushed up his glasses, a hint of flattery in his eyes.
"These warehouses have very complex security systems. If you need them, you might have to visit them personally to take possession."
"Gold? Antiques?"
Peter's eyes lit up slightly upon hearing this.
This sounded... like a good opportunity to trigger a new quest or go treasure hunting.
Antiques in the Marvel universe,
Perhaps they possessed some hidden power.
"No problem."
Peter leaned against the desk, watching the constantly scrolling transfer progress bar on the screen, in a very good mood.
"Transfer the money first. As for those treasures, tell me where they are hidden, and I will personally retrieve them."
He lightly scanned Wesley's phone with his high-tech bracelet.
Immediately after,
Peter easily obtained all the information on the other man's phone, and naturally, he also added Wesley's contact information.
"Yes, yes, Boss."
Wesley looked up, his eyes filled with awe, "I'll add your contact information right away."
"Regarding those immovable properties... Kingpin was very suspicious in life. He hid those assets scattered across secret warehouses all over New York."
"But don't worry, these places aren't hard to find."
As Wesley spoke, he sent a detailed electronic map to Peter's bracelet.
"Most of the warehouses are located near the ports he controlled, and some collections are stored in the underground vault of Fisk Tower."
"It's right next to that underground laboratory."
"As long as you subdue the remaining forces of Kingpin, all this wealth will be yours."
Chapter 81: Receiving the Spoils
Peter glanced down at the bracelet; several red coordinate points lit up on the screen.
One of them...
was very close to the Hell's Kitchen dock he had just left.
"Very good."
Peter nodded with satisfaction.
He wasn't worried that Wesley would try any tricks; in the face of absolute power, any lie was pale and weak.
At this moment...
the numbers on the screen in front of Wesley were jumping wildly.
That was the massive money laundering network established by Kingpin, and its ownership was being forcibly rewritten.
Hundreds of millions in black money...
was being transferred through countless offshore accounts, ultimately flowing into the black card Peter had just tossed out.
In between operations...
Wesley seemed to suddenly remember something, and his expression became somewhat solemn.
"By the way, Boss."
Wesley pushed up his glasses, his tone carrying a hint of apprehension.
"In the process of receiving Kingpin's inheritance, there is one more uncertain variable."
"Although Your might is peerless, I must remind you that within Kingpin's forces, there is a woman named Typhoid Mary."
"She is a troublesome individual; not only is she a Mutant, but she is also a complete lunatic."
"Her mental state is extremely unstable; sometimes she acts like an innocent victim, and other times she is a bloodthirsty demon."
"When Kingpin was alive, he could barely suppress her. Now that Kingpin is dead, she is very likely to lose control and try to contend for the Boss's position."
"A troublesome individual?"
Peter couldn't help but chuckle upon hearing this, his laughter full of disdain.
"You think she's troublesome? Could she be stronger than me?"
"Absolutely impossible!"
Wesley subconsciously stated with certainty.
This was not flattery, but his true judgment from the bottom of his heart.
As Kingpin's chief steward...
he had witnessed what Typhoid Mary looked like when she went mad; it was indeed terrifying—she could lift cars with her mind and set people on fire.
But... so what?
Wesley had personally witnessed the massacre Petercarried out in the Underground Room of Fisk Tower via surveillance.
Mister Negative, who could control Negative Energy and materialize energy...
couldn't even last a single move against Peter.
That was a true instant kill!
In Wesley's view, whether it was speed, strength, or reaction ability, the display Peter showed...
was entirely on another dimension of existence.
It was pure aesthetic violence, an unstoppable natural disaster.
In comparison...
Typhoid Mary's erratic abilities were simply child's play in front of Spider-Man.
"Boss, your power is invincible."
Wesley took a deep breath, calming his emotions.
"That madwoman Typhoid Mary isn't even worthy of carrying your shoes. I was just worried she might cause destruction and affect our progress in taking over the territory."
"You don't need to worry about that."
Peter waved his hand, a mysterious smile playing on his lips.
"Someone will take care of that madwoman, and they should have finished the job already."
Anaconda...
that female warrior from the Serpent Society, whose entire body was made of Adamantium.
Having a tank with maxed-out defense go against a squishy mage was simply a perfect counter.
A moment later...
"Ding—Transfer complete."
A green prompt box popped up on the computer screen.
Wesley respectfully handed the black card back to Peterwith both hands:
"Boss, all the funds have been transferred. This is the first batch of liquid assets, approximately three hundred million U.S. dollars."
"There are also some long-term investments and bonds that will require a little time to liquidate slowly."
Peter took the card.
"Well done."
He patted Wesley on the shoulder.
Even though he was wearing armor, Wesley still felt a heavy pressure that made him afraid to look directly.
"Wesley, you are a smart person, and a capable one."
Peter looked around at the luxurious office.
"For all future business, just continue operating under the previous model. I don't understand those financial reports, nor do I want to. You will be fully responsible for these matters."
"I will not interfere with your specific operations. As long as the money arrives on time every month, this place remains yours to manage."
Hearing this...
Wesley let out a long sigh of relief, his tense nerves finally relaxing.
"Yes, Boss!"
Excitement flashed in Wesley's eyes.
"I will manage your forces well! I guarantee the profits will be even higher than when Kingpin was in charge!"
What he feared most...
was encountering a boss who only had muscle and no brain, yet insisted on giving foolish orders.
An amateur directing a professional was a major taboo in business.
Peter's hands-off approach to management was, for a manager like Wesley, the perfect leadership style.
This meant...
he had greater autonomy and could better display his talents.
"However..."
Peter shifted his tone, a hint of temptation in his voice.
"I am not only here to collect money."
"If, in the course of operations, you encounter any thorny issues you cannot resolve, or if some disrespectful fellow dares to cause trouble, just tell me directly."
Peter clenched his fist, and a crack echoed in the air: "I will help you solve all physical obstacles."
"And..."
Peter looked at Wesley's physique, which was somewhat frail due to long hours hunched over work, and suddenly threw out a huge bait.
"As long as you can make money well and show sufficient loyalty, I wouldn't mind giving you some real benefits."
Peter leaned in a bit closer, his voice low.
"For example... granting you power even greater than Kingpin's."
"Power?! Stronger than Kingpin?"
Wesley's heart skipped a beat; he looked at Peter, his breathing becoming rapid.
In this World full of superhumans...
who didn't crave power?
But immediately after, Wesley's mind conjured up Kingpin's massive, mountain-like physique, and his expression turned somewhat strange.
"Boss..."
Wesley asked cautiously.
"The power you speak of, it won't involve turning fat like Kingpin, will it? I rather like wearing suits."
He definitely didn't want to turn into a meatball who needed custom-made extra-large clothes just to buy attire.
"..."
Peter rolled his eyes speechlessly and gave him a contemptuous look.
"A man who hasn't seen the World."
Peter scoffed.
"Do you think all strong people are fat like Kingpin? He didn't have superpowers at all; he just overdid his muscle training!"
"What I will give you is true genetic evolution—the kind where you look slim in clothes, built under them, and can tear down a Gundam with your bare hands."
"Understand?"
Hearing this explanation...
Wesley's hanging heart finally settled down, and then it was filled with immense joy.
"Understood! Understood!"
Wesley's face flushed with excitement, and he bowed deeply once more, "Thank you for your cultivation, Boss! I will serve you wholeheartedly!"
"Alright, stop with the nonsense. We'll see based on your performance."
Peter didn't linger any longer; dawn was approaching, and he still had many things to handle.
Before leaving, he gave one last instruction:
"Someone will come to interface with you regarding business shortly. That Black man named Luke Cage will be responsible for security from now on."
"As for Typhoid Mary..."
Peter glanced at the night outside the window, "She should be taken care of soon."
"By then, Kingpin's remaining forces, along with the territories of those Serpent Societys, Jigsaw gangs, and Devil gangs, will all be absorbed by us."
"Your enterprise will expand greatly, even larger than during Kingpin's time."
"If you cannot manage such a large territory, or if chaos ensues due to your incompetence..."
Peter's voice turned cold.
"Then don't blame me for finding someone else to divide your authority."
Chapter 82: Kingpin's Treasury
This round of reprimand cooled the ecstasy in Wesley's heart, transforming it into deep vigilance and motivation.
He knew.
He had encountered an unprecedented opportunity, but he also faced immense work pressure.
Spider-Man's ambition was clearly much greater than Kingpin's.
If he could withstand the pressure, manage this vast underground empire flawlessly, and become a qualified steward.
Then he would gain power and strength never before seen.
He absolutely had to seize this massive historical opportunity!
"I will handle everything, I promise I won't disappoint you!" Wesley solemnly assured him again.
Peter nodded and said no more.
He turned, walked to the shattered doorway, his figure flashed, and he vanished into the shadows of the corridor.
Only Wesley remained.
Standing in the office littered with wood shavings.
He stared at the empty doorway, took out his phone, and dialed a number.
"Hello, is this the renovation company? I need the best carpenter, right now. I also need to replace my desk with the sturdiest one possible, preferably made of bulletproof steel plate..."
...Leaving the sanitarium filled with a decadent atmosphere, Peter felt the outside air was much fresher.
At this time.
In the eastern sky, a hint of fish-belly white was already emerging.
The darkness before dawn is the deepest, but it is also the most suitable for certain shady dealings.
"Let's go check out the docks," Peter thought of the coordinates Wesley had just sent.
"Since one of Kingpin's secret warehouses is there, I might as well stop by and open a blind box."
He shot out his Web fluid, his figure like lightning.
He swung again toward the dock area of Hells Kitchen.
Just as he was leaping between the tall buildings, his wristband suddenly vibrated.
[Caller ID: Anaconda]
Peter's eyes lit up, and he immediately connected the communication channel.
"Hey? Buddy, how are things over there?" Peter asked while adjusting his posture in mid-air.
On the other end of the communicator.
Came Anaconda's signature, bold, unrestrained, and wild laughter.
"Hahaha! Of course, it's already successfully resolved!"
Anaconda's voice was accompanied by the chaotic sound of footsteps and pleas for mercy in the background, clearly indicating she was cleaning up the battlefield.
"Why else would I call you? To report a death?"
"That woman named Typhoid Mary..."
Anaconda snorted disdainfully.
"Although she's a Mutant, can play with Fire, and can throw things with her mind, she looks quite intimidating."
"But in front of this old lady, she's just window dressing."
"Her Fire couldn't burn through my skin, and her telekinesis couldn't move me. I charged through her Fireball and took her down in a few punches."
Hearing this battle report, Peter felt no surprise at all.
Although Typhoid Mary was a superhuman villain, most of her abilities were targeted at ordinary people or fragile heroes.
Against a monster like Anaconda, whose entire body was inlaid with Adamantium and whose defense was maxed out, it was practically meeting her natural predator.
"Well done!" Peter praised.
"Don't kill that woman. Her genes are interesting; I have a use for her."
"No problem." Anaconda readily agreed, "What's next? Should we continue tonight?"
Peter glanced at the sky.
"It's almost dawn. Let's stop here for tonight. Making too much noise will attract the Police."
Peter replied.
"You've been busy all night too, let the brothers rest for a bit first."
"We'll continue tomorrow night."
Peter's tone shifted, carrying a hint of surging ambition.
"The Jigsaw's gang, the Demon Gang, and all those small gangs taking advantage of the chaos—don't let a single one go. We need to take over all the territories left behind by the other underworld leaders."
"When that time comes, we'll split the profits of the entire New York underworld fifty-fifty."
On the other end of the line, Anaconda's eyes instantly lit up.
"That's exactly what I was thinking!" Anaconda excitedly licked her lips.
She was the vanguard sent by the Serpent Society to expand into the New York market. Her original mission was just to form an alliance with Kingpin and get a small share.
Who would have thought that this trip would lead her to Peter, a 'HYDRA colleague hidden within S.H.I.E.L.D.'?
This 'insider' was incredibly capable! Not only was his strength formidable, but he was also ambitious.
He showed Anaconda a possibility.
Not just taking a piece of the pie, but directly unifying the New York underworld!
If they could truly achieve this.
The benefits she brought back would be astronomical.
Her status within the Serpent Society, and even the entire HYDRA organization, would absolutely soar like a Rocket.
"Following Spider-Man really pays off," Anaconda thought smugly, full of fighting spirit.
"Okay! It's settled then! See you at the old spot tomorrow night!"
Anaconda hung up the phone.
Looking at the conquered city block beneath her feet, she waved her hand grandly and shouted to the excited, newly incorporated underlings behind her:
"Boys! Knock off! Let's go drink! We'll continue the big business tomorrow night!"
...Meanwhile, on the other side.
Peter landed on top of a huge shipping container in the dock area after hanging up the phone.
The sea breeze blew against his suit.
Although he had been busy all night—fighting Magneto, subjugating gangs, and having a'spar' with Gwen—his spirit was still high.
"Mission accomplished, territory secured, beauty in tow, and a few new underlings gained."
Peter looked at the awakening city beneath his feet, filled with a sense of accomplishment.
"Kingpin's era is over."
"Now, it is Spider-Man's era."
He turned and jumped off the container, walking toward the secret warehouse marked with a special symbol.
"Let me see what kind of good treasures that big fatty left for me."
The air was filled with the smell of rust and dead fish, occasionally punctuated by the dull sound of distant waves hitting the embankment.
Finally.
Peter stopped at the deepest part of the docks.
Before him was an area of abandoned stacking, overgrown with weeds.
And at the very bottom layer of the stacked, old containers lay an inconspicuous red container.
Its exterior was mottled; most of the red paint had peeled off, revealing the rusty metal underneath.
It looked like industrial junk that hadn't been touched for decades.
If it weren't for the precise coordinates guiding him, no one would have given it a second glance.
"The most dangerous place is the safest place? That old fox Kingpin really understands psychology."
Peter activated his X-ray vision.
His gaze instantly pierced through the thick sheet metal.
Inside the container was not empty, nor was it filled with cargo; instead, it connected directly underground.
He walked to the container's closed iron door, which had a large alloy padlock hanging on it.
"Picking locks? Good neighbors never carry keys."
Peter extended his right hand.
His long, powerful palm gently gripped the heavy alloy lock.
Nearly a thousand points of strength attribute flowed through his fingertips.
"Crack—Squeak—"
There was no suspense.
The lock, made of high-strength alloy capable of resisting hydraulic shears, was like a brittle cookie in Peter's hand.
Accompanied by the sound of twisting metal.
The shackle was directly crushed, snapped, and finally turned into a pile of scrap iron that fell to the ground.
Peter casually pushed open the heavy iron door.
"Screech—"
The rusty hinges let out a harsh friction sound.
Air that was stale, dry, yet mixed with the unique scent of ink from money and metal, rushed out from inside.
The bottom plate of the container had been removed, revealing a concrete staircase leading deep underground.
Induction lights were installed on both sides of the stairs.
As Peter entered, the lights automatically turned on one by one, illuminating the path to 'Ali Baba's Treasure Trove'.